


Anthropophagistic Design

by AsgardianHorsemanship



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types, Hannibal Lecter Tetralogy - Thomas Harris
Genre: America, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Argentina, Attempted Murder, Autism Spectrum, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Bedroom Sex, Betrayal, Blood Kink, Bottom Will Graham, Brutal Murder, But also a psychopathic murder, But knowing me it may end up a 50 chaptered novella too so yeah, Cannibalism, Cannibalism Play, Cannibalism Puns, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Canon Gay Relationship, Caring Hannibal Lecter, Chesapeake Ripper, Dark Will Graham, Doctor Hannibal Lecter, Doctor Lecter, Domestic Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Eventual Smut, Every hole is a goal to Hannibal, Fannibals, Food Kink, Food Porn, Forgiveness, France (Country), Gay, Gay For You, Gay Sex, Gratuitous Smut, Hannibal Lecter Being an Asshole, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is a Softie, Hannibal Lecter is a Tease, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, Hannibal Rising References, Hannibal and will, Hannibal does not care about gender at all, Hannigram - Freeform, Happy Murder Family, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm not sure where this is going so bear with me, Literally have not slept at all, M/M, Manipulative Will Graham, Medical Kink, Multiple Sex Positions, Murder, Murder Family, Murder Husbands, Murder Kink, Murderers, Not Beta Read, POV Hannibal Lecter, POV Will Graham, Pansexual Character, Pansexual Hannibal, Past Alana Bloom/Hannibal Lecter, Plotbunnies, Plothole Fill, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Blind Betrayal, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Protective Hannibal Lecter, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Psychopaths In Love, Roma | Rome, Rough Sex, Sassy Will Graham, Serial Killer Husbands, Serial Killers, Shameless Smut, Smut, Some Plot, Someone Help Will Graham, Someone Helps Will Graham, Suit Porn, Table Sex, This may just end up being smut, Top Hannibal Lecter, Unbeta'd, Voice Kink, Weird Plot Shit, Will Graham is a Cannibal, Will's not exactly gay, but is very gay for Hannibal so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 08:23:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18847261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsgardianHorsemanship/pseuds/AsgardianHorsemanship
Summary: When Hannibal drags Will out of the sea after they kill the Dragon, the mask he wears is gone.Two bared souls must figure out what happens now that all the bets are off and all the games are over.Surviving wasn't really part of the plan for either of them.Probably going to be a smut fest but, as we all know me by now it could also turn into a well plotted novella so, enjoy. I haven't slept yet, this wouldn't let me.Anthropophagistic means Cannibalistic btw





	1. After Effect

Will turned over the tanned hand in his own, his fingers trailing down the palm as he used a wet cloth to dab away the drying blood. 

The hand in his amused him, for it did not fit with the cultured man before him, the man for whom sketching and cooking was as much a part of life as psychiatry, a man whose tailored suits and decorated halls spoke of wealth and personal care to the point of obsessiveness. 

Except for his hands, his hands were rough, calloused, the hands of a man who was just as at home holding a meat cleaver as he was a pen. Criss crossing scars adorned the fingers, the hands of a butcher, the hands of a monster. Though manicured and cared for, those subtle signs could not be hidden with all the best creams and poultices europe had to offer.  
The hands joined strong wrists where long white scars told a tale of obsession and destruction, and those wrists joined strong, corded arms, yet again not the arms of a musician or an artist. 

He felt a smile play his lips as he stroked his fingers back down the palm and leant over to pick up the bandage. As he sat back up and began to wind the bandage around the shallow cut he could feel the hawk like gaze of the older man on him, he could almost see one eye brow slightly raised at the smirk on his face. 

He drew his attention back to the hand in his lap, drew his thoughts back to a straight line which for him was the best way to avoid thinking about the pain he was currently in, both mentally and physically. 

All these subtle signs had always been there hadn't they? The hands, the scars, though Hannibal never allowed bruises or anything more to show from when a kill became troublesome, scars were not so easy to hide. An artist would shirk at the sight of these hands, more suited to working than to finesse or so it would seem to one viewing them from the outside. 

"Why are you smiling William?" Hannibal's husky voice cut through Will's slowly derailing thoughts, it was the first time either had spoken since they dragged themselves out of the sea. 

Will fumbled with the bandage, his line of thought zigzagging into oblivion as pain once again bloomed across his face and chest. Hannibal had cleaned him up with a surgeon's precision as always, and had directed Will as to how best to treat his own wounds, but downing several aspirin did nothing for the pain, suppressing it was using his memory palace to its full extent and any outside interference shattered that hold upon the pain. He winced and felt a rough hand close around his trembling one. 

"How bad is the pain?" 

"Enough for me to actually wish for some of your laced drinks." Will huffed, the smile still touching the corners of his mouth. 

"I am afraid the safehouse will not be safe for very long, and I have not restocked as well as I should have since I was last here with Abigail, I cannot use what I have here and keep your mind clear Will." 

Will turned his hand in Hannibal's grip, trying to ignore the lump Abigail's name brought to his throat, abandoning the bandage and instead gripping Hannibal's fingers. He raised his gaze to Hannibal's own, hoping to convey his words without having to move his slashed jaw again. 

Hannibal understood, that was the most refreshing part of this twisted and ultimately destructive relationship, words were not needed, they could be just and comfortable and understanding in their silences. "I would wager we have less than an hour before I must flee this place." Hannibal gripped Will's hand back. "I have not asked yet for fear of what you might say, but I know I must. What do you plan to do now?" 

Will jutted out his jaw and circled it slowly as he felt the tendrils of pain seep out towards his eyes. 

"The survelliance around your home will show us both dropping to our deaths, conveniantly it is now disabled along with the power and back up generator thanks to a wonderful storm covering our tracks. Meaning no one will know we came back in or how." 

They had abandoned their clothes in a cave below the cliff, a strategically placed cave of course, this was Hannibal they were speaking of. They burned them on the fire they made, leaving both men in just their underwear as they huddled close to it for warmth. Will would have been happy to stay there, leaning against Hannibal's burning skin, a heady sleepiness stealing over him in the gloom, but Hannibal would not allow it. Over and over again he told him to stay awake, lest he slip into the void. 

There was a way out the back of the cave, that led to a well wooded path twisting up to the rear of the house. A true safehouse if ever Will had seen one. He itched to explore it and the passageways within it. He knew there were several hidden exits into the wilderness beyond. Once dry they had gone into the woods, where Hannibal pulled open a rusted box hidden beneath twisting ivy and shut down the power and made sure the cameras were off. They then entered from the basement and back into the house, careful not to touch anything from earlier, sidestepping each other's blood that was slowly clotting on the floor. 

Hannibal had led Will into the bedroom where a first aid kit sat under the bed in a leather doctor's bag, dusty from misuse. He had first seen to Will, the wound in his face had damaged a tooth so severely Hannibal had had to pull it out. He sewed Will's face up with practised ease and gentility, and then moved on to his shoulder, pulling out a wad of bloodied shirt he had stuffed inside the wound earlier, soaked in salt water from the sea surrounding them to try to stop the wound from healing over before the damage inside was clean. The inspection of the wound had been mercilessly painful and thorough, but Will had bitten down on a leather strap Hannibal produced from his bag, marred with old marks from years of Hannibal clenching it between his jaws as he sewed himself up and put himself to rights in secrecy. Will had stayed stoic as Hannibal cleaned and drained the wound, commenting on how lucky he was to have avoided damage to his lung from the angle the knife had entered him. He had merely huffed around the old leather and closed his eyes. 

What had happened lay between them, heavy like a mist in the early mornings in Wolf's Trap, Virginia. Or to Will, always home, no matter how far away he went. Even now Hannibal was doubtless unsure as to whether Will had tried to kill them both, commit suicide, or something more complex. Hannibal was not even sure if he had on some level known and let Will do it.

Hannibal was rocked back to the present as Will began to speak again, the pain lacing his words made Hannibal squeeze Will with his uninjured hand. 

"Everyone will think I'm dead, so I suppose I am a free man." 

"Suppose you are, what will that mean for you?" 

Will squeezed Hannibal's hand back and raised his gaze back to the older man's face. "Well, I have a wife, stepson, dogs and life waiting for me. They'll be heartbroken but not particularly surprised at the news of my death. My return to them would lead to questions I could not answer. Such as where you were, how did I escape, are you alive?" Will blew out a breath between gritted teeth. "Jack won't be able to save me this time, he'd know I let you go unless I could produce your lifeless body on a silver platter. There's only so many times you can allow the Chesapeake Ripper to go free before you yourself are incriminated. I could bring you in, but we both know you're not about to give up your freedom to go back into that cage, not for me, not for anyone." 

"You'd be right." Hannibal's lips twitched in a faint smirk as Will held his gaze. "And in your condition and mine, we are no match for the other, I still believe I could overpower you, but there'd be no glory or gain in killing you this time." 

"So that really leaves me with three options. One is to go home, tell Jack what I can and hope my family would be able to look me in the eye once the truth was told. Two is to leave here and wait it out, maybe start again," he let go of Hannibal's hand, "or three, what do you plan to do now, Doctor Lecter?" 

Hannibal dropped his gaze to their hands, he picked up the bandage on his palm and began winding it around the now clean cut. Without looking up at Will he spoke. 

"I am a master of disappearing as you well know, and that is what I will do. I will leave here and let them believe my body is down in the depths of the ocean where you put it. I have enough false papers, money and charm to get myself to anywhere I could really think to go. My only problem is you, Will. Being without you is becoming difficult, first your incarceration, then your avoidance, and then my failed attempt to leave you the first time. Bedelia will forever gloat that she knew I would not be satisfied knowing you were still out there, and she was right. I would have you leave with me Will, run with me if needed. But the issue is that now you truly know me, there's no more games, no more hidden meanings, no more plays to have. Last time you were trying to capture me, so I gave you a warning (Will's hand involuntarily twitched towards the scar beneath his navel). This time you released me and had me at your mercy. So easily you could have left me to the Dragon, or killed him and left me to die. But you didn't. Why is that Will?" 

Will ran a hand up to his jaw and touched the pucked flesh stitched together there. "I could say to you that I could not have killed the Dragon by myself, I would be telling the truth, had you not caught him off guard I have no doubts he would have killed me. But I chose to step in and attack him before your life was over because I couldn't bear to see you die. There. I said it. I have spent so long planning and plotting and attempting to end your life but when it boils down to it I can't, because you're my friend, and friends don't let the other die on their watch. What about you Hannibal? The Dragon had me at his mercy, and you were seriously injured, you could have regrouped and killed him whilst he was distracted with me and in one foul swoop you would have taken away both problems you were facing. I would be dead and no longer pursuing you with the FBI, and so would the Dragon. You would be free to disappear once more, safe in the knowledge that without me Jack would be stumbling in the dark after you." 

"My answer is the same as yours Will. I could not bear to see you die, not at his hands, so long I have claimed your life for myself, fantasizing about how I would end it, enraged by the thought of anyone but me taking it away from you. This possessive obsession should have ended tonight, but now I find that even at my own hands, I can no longer bear it." He laughed quietly to himself, careful not to move the gunshot would that was slightly, haphazardly clean, sewn up and bandaged over by Will. "My possession of your life is no longer something that interests me unless it entails keeping you alive." 

"So is this a stalemate?" 

"No, this is a question that needs answering and I ask it now, a question I should have asked long ago. Can you bear to see me as I am Will? I am the Chesapeake Ripper, I am a killer, I have killed and will kill again for that desire is insatiable, as you have found out for yourself. Taking a life is my art and I am a master at it. Can you bear that? Can you accept me and my friendship knowing the truth? Are you the man I have tried to make you?" 

Will leaned forwards and once again took Hannibal's hand in his own. He held it tightly, his movements telling Hannibal to look at him, to come close to him. 

"This friendship, this relationship I have with you has been toxic, destructive, implosive, one sided, manipulative, twisted, disturbed and dangerous. I have tried to kill you, you have tried to kill me, you have taken advantage of me and manipulated me, I have lied to you and tried to entrap you. By all rights I should look at you the way everyone else does, with disgust and hatred, I should shy from your poisonous touch," Hannibal's hand tightened on Wills, "I should be putting you on death row for the murders, for the murders of my friends, for the murder of Abigail, but every time I think of someone you murdered I think of someone you saved. I think of you carrying me through the snow from Muskrat Farm. You, one of the deadliest serial killers this world will ever know, shielding me from harm after being yet again unleashed on this world, after being so close to being taken out of the running for good. I think of you on your knees, guns pointed you, telling me that now I'd always know where you were, because you knew that all of that would happen in one way or another. Knew I would need you, knew you would be the only one who could save me. It hurts my head to think about this all. It's a jumbled mess but I keep coming back to the one constant. You are my friend Hannibal and I am afraid to lose you. Through all of this, I am able to see you clearly and not shy away or be repulsed because I understand you in a way I never thought possible. And I know you understand me as well, something I never dreamed of happening. Molly loves me, and tries to understand me, but she will never know the darkness inside of me, I pray she never has to know it. You do and you embrace it, because you are my truest friend. Alana cares for me but is still disgusted by me and what she did for me, she's even a little scared of me and she is a hypocrite just like Jack. Jack sees me as a dog he lets out of its kennel to do a job for him every so often, hoping if he keeps feeding me and caring for me I won't run away when he takes off the leash and sets me on a scent."

Another pause, but Hannibal kept silent, only in times of true emotion would get words out of will past the bare minimum, interrupting that flow was like plugging a leak, the flow stopped dead.

"There is no one in the world like you Hannibal and that is a terrifying thought to me, that without you I am alone, no matter who I surround myself with. And now my jaw is aching, my headache is becoming feverish and my body is going on strike and I'm still talking because I can't seem to stop because I have no words to describe what I am feeling or what I am trying to convey to you. I asked Bedelia if you were in love with me not long ago, and her reply was to ask me if I were in love with you. That's a strange thought for me, for someone who has never questioned the bounds of sexuality, male friendships, love or companionship any more than 'I like woman and have only been with women because that's normalcy and what is expected of me'. Can you love someone in that way without pushing those bounds? I don't think so and yet I'm finding it harder and harder to give a fuck." 

Lecter's eyes, that had been watching Will's tense hands upon his own snapped up at the use of vulgar language, a honed instinctive movement caused as much by the word as the words before it. He was finding everything Will was saying to be intensely pleasing, as was the weight of Will's hands on his, and the slight tingling of the touching flesh that Hannibal knew meant something rather extraordinary to one such as himself, to whom emotions were a vague, boring notion and something he held at bay. He took his bandaged hand and placed it gingerly atop Will's closed ones, being careful not to snag the tight cloth and reopen the shallow gash beneath it. 

"Bedelia is a smart, calculating woman and her instincts about me have never been wrong yet. But she talks of love as if it is a concept she reads about. Love is boundless, love is unexplainable and it transcends the lines of gender, sexuality, comfort, normalcy and platonic friendship in ways we cannot explain. Normalcy has never been an interest to me Will. I like beautiful things, be it food, fine beverages, or people. Gender is the construct to me, it does not interest me. A beautiful mind is what interests me, when it is attached to a beautiful body that is a bonus. I find your mind beautiful Will, and I find myself longing for your touch enough to know I find your body so too. When I touched Alana, it was cold and without emotion, but just grazing your flesh with my own ignites something within me. I crave you, at first I thought I wanted to tear you apart, create something to destroy, but I was wrong. I wanted to create an equal with whom I could share the truth of my being. I wanted you to accept me, to share with me, to be with me. My desire for your flesh is still there, but no longer is that desire to consume it, that desire is to touch, to create, to protect." Hannibal raised one perfect eyebrow. "Certainly, there is an aspect of devouring, but not in the way of eating you." 

Will had to remember how to breathe as those dark eyes captured his. This was all going in a very odd direction and yet he found he could not stop it, nor did he want to. For a long time he had found the touch of Hannibal to be comforting, to be something he desired but he never thought of it in any way other than protective friendship, not because that was what was blossoming between them but through sheer naïvety on his part. He had been raised on the concepts of straight and gay, one is correct the other is not. One is normal. He liked women, he enjoyed women just as Hannibal did, but they did not excite him in the way Hannibal did, did not create a sense of desperate, obsessive longing. When Hannibal touched him then moved away he was left empty, wanting. But he had never allowed any such thoughts to even peep in through the cracks of his fragile sanity. That would be too much, out of all of this, desiring another man would be the breaking point. 

He dropped his gaze to his hands and opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. Then opened it again. He leaned his elbows on his knees as he sat across the bed from Hannibal, wincing as he moved his shoulder. He swallowed, tasting the coppery after taste of his own blood, his tongue reaching to the gap where his tooth once was subconciously. 

"So was Bedelia correct in her analysis of you?" He finally managed to push out through his teeth and raised his eyes back to Hannibal's dark depths. 

Hannibal licked his dry, cracked lips slowly as he held Will's heavy, implicating gaze. He sniffed, closing his eyes against the pain it caused to his swollen face. He opened them again and drunk in Will's damaged form. Deep bruises blooming across his face, arms and chest. He had never looked more beautiful to Hannibal than he did right then, tiny residues of blood lingering on his jaw, his lips, his fingers, under his nails. He wanted to clean Will better, but candlelight only afforded so much detail. But at the same time seeing the rawness of Will as he was when Hannibal pulled him from the sea was something he'd never forget. The blood mixing with salt water and dropping off his plastered form. The ripped clothing showing spats of mottled, bruised skin, the hitch in his walk as he favoured his left leg to keep the knife wound in his right shoulder from being jostled. One slightly blackened, puffed eye. The ability to see his teeth from within the ragged slit in his cheek. There was nothing more to hide in that moment. Will was absolute. And he was everything Hannibal had never believed he would ever find. 

"I would assume she was." 

"Cut the bullshit Hannibal. No more games." 

Hannibal's eyes flashed at the language, but a smile began to form. 

"You want me to say it?" 

"I want you to tell me the truth. All the truth, no more holding back. No more dancing around the edges, everything you have said so far can be interpreted differently, you are a master at withholding the truth and using implication to stop incrimination." 

"Will you also say it? No more games? Just the truth, I want you to say it to yourself, more than to me." Hannibal took one of Will's hands in his bandaged hand, careful not to brush the broken nails Will was sporting, and the other in his uninjured hand. He faced Will properly, allowing his mask to drop to the floor and shatter like the teacup, but this time there would be no time reversal. The mask was gone, to Will at least. Forever. 

Will took in the man before him, Hannibal's human suit abandoned. The beast within was now holding Will's beaten hands, and to Will, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

"I love you, Will Graham, I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you. I love you and I want you to share everything with me. I want you to come away with me and know me as a lover should know his partner. I claimed you long ago, but now I ask you to be mine," that smile rose again to his swollen lips, "gender constructs be damned." 

Will's steady breathing hitched in his chest and Hannibal closed his grip on Will's hands. He felt the warm bloom of blood through the bandage on Hannibal's hand and he cursed him internally for ruining his hard work over sentiment. But yet somehow he found it almost adorable. 

"I," he swallowed, anxiety suddenly crashing over his head like thunder over a stormy sea. 

"Stay with me Will." Hannibal squeezed his hands once more and drew him closer, bringing their faces together as Will grit his teeth. He could do this, there was no reason he couldn't. Hadn't he abandoned justice and all those bullshit concepts in favour of Hannibal already? So why could he not abandon these?

Will took a deep shuddering breath and opened his eyes, surprised to find Hannibal's face before his own. He stopped thinking then, abandoning not just concepts but the whole construct of his conscience and concious understanding of the world. He closed the gap between them, reminded of how their lips almost touched before Will took them over the cliff's edge, how he would rather have dived off a cliff than follow that train of thought in that moment, but now, this was the cliff and he was doing all he knew how by diving off it. But this time instead of a shield in the form of Hannibal, he had an anchor in his hands. 

Their lips crashed together, already bruised and swollen both men felt the complaints from their bodies as the kiss began. But soon it was all forgotten, teeth clashed, tongues entered and wound together and suddenly all the hurt went away, there was nothing but fire and passion and years of unrequieted yearning spilling out in waves of lust laced with the subtle taste of blood. This was what it should feel like, Will knew this with certainty he had never felt before. It didn't feel this way with Alana, it had felt calm, easy, soft and pliant and comfortable, if a little forced. This was nothing like that. This was strength and flames and passion and fireworks behind his closed eyelids. This was a powerplay between them, one that had been going on from the very beginning, the moment his eyes had met Hannibal's across the desk. His skin was burning, not from the fever or the cold but from Hannibal's touch. 

He dropped the other man's hands and ran his own up those strong, thick arms onto Hannibal's broad shoulders. Hannibal's own wound around Will's slender waist. He pulled Will into him without breaking the kiss. It was hot and wet and breathless and unlike anything Will had ever experienced, and even by Hannibal's standards, this was something new. Hannibal was no stranger to a male lover, but as with Alana, it had been a way to pass the time and exert control. Right now he was not in control, he had thrown control to the wind with reckless abandon.  
Their breath melded together in gasps as they struggled to take in air without breaking away, the desperation to be as close as possible blinding any kind of self preservation, Hannibal's hands began to rove Will's lean muscled back, tracing curves he had only dreampt of, careful of the covered knife wound even in the frenzy of heat. He used his height and bulk advantage to push Will down and deepen the kiss, bringing a knee up onto the bed and leaning into Will's body, Will moaned into his mouth and Hannibal had a moment to register the incredulousness that he could have ever thought about conquering Will by eating him, when there was another much more pleasurable way to devour the younger man's flesh. Then, as if to add poetry to the thought, the metallic tang of blood flooded onto his tongue and into his mouth, the taste was unlike anything Hannibal had ever encountered and he found himself sucking on Will's tongue, letting it flow across his own and down his throat in a beautiful ecstasy, Will moaned again, but this time it wasn't with pleasure and Hannibal realised why he could taste the sweetness of blood. He drew back, breaking the kiss so quickly blood spattered onto his chin and down his bare chest.

He took a large gulp of air and grinned as more of Will's blood dripped down his lips. 

Will raised a hand to his face and groaned petulantly. He had opened the stitches on his face through his frenzy. Hannibal quickly grabbed a cloth and brought it to Will's cheek. He licked his lips once Will opened his eyes, very aware of how Will traced his tongue with his eyes. 

"That was not the answer I was expecting, and now you have ruined my good work," Hannibal tutted, "This will most assuredly scar now." 

Will spat a globule of blood onto the pile of soiled dressings and smiled, his teeth stained red in an unnervingly sexy way. "I'll match you now I guess." He spoke of the scar on Hannibal's right cheekbone, a gift from Jack 3 years before. 

"You're ridiculous Will, you know that right? But you didn't answer, I'd call that cheating." Hannibal let a hurt expression flit across his face. 

"You can't cheat a cheater." Hannibal raised his chin at that, working his jaw to distract from the vulnerability he was currently feeling with trepidation. Normally such talk would amuse him, but right now words like that were not what he needed. "Hey," Will put a hand back on Hannibal's bare shoulder, " I love you Hannibal, whether I should or not doesn't enter the equation. My sexuality doesn't enter the equation. I love you, all of you." He swallowed gently, ignoring the pain of his cheek. "This is my design."


	2. Ripples

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I lied have a fully forming story to go with impending smut 🤗

Hannibal stood up from the bed, leaving Will to watch as he walked over to a sliding door, pressing his hand against a shallow dip in the wall the door opened to reveal a beautifully lit walk in wardrobe. Of course it was a wardrobe, what else would it have been. Hannibal came back out carrying a suit bag upon a hanger and presented it to Will, he undid the zip to reveal a flawless dark three piece suit with a waistcoat and slate grey silk shirt and wide rich red tie. Hannibal reaches down into the pocket and brought out a velvet box and opened it with a masterful flick of his fingers to reveal red cufflinks. 

“It’s your size, I took the liberty of having it made for you.”

Will swallowed past a lump in his throat. “How do you know it’s my size if it is tailored?” 

“I have watched you enough to make a good guess at your measurements Will, my nose is not the only keen sense I have, my eyes are rarely wrong.” Hannibal lay the bag and suit across the bed and placed the open box beside Will. 

Will picked up the box and examined the dark red cufflinks, simplistic skulls. “Subtle Hannibal.” 

“We all have our idiosyncrasies William, do not deny me mine.” Hannibal turned away from him and went back into the wardrobe, without so much as a rummage he came back out with a folded pair of boxers. 

Will took one look at them and a small jolt of panic ran down him at the sight. “Are these my size too or are they your underwear?” He gulped.

“Which would you prefer?” Hannibal raised one elegant eyebrow. 

Will raised a hand up and ran it through his still slightly wet curls and then down over his uninjured cheek. 

“Relax Will, the innocent schoolboy routine may be adorable but it doesn’t suit you. They are your size, you wear loose boxers, often with buttons missing, it wasn’t hard to guess.” 

Will felt a blush creep across his cheeks and looked down at himself. Will was not a coy man and usually getting changed wasn’t something that bothered him, often times he answered the door in s pair of rag tag boxers and if the caller was lucky maybe an old stained bed shirt. Will was not naïve enough to think that looks didn’t matter, not that he was an unattractive man, on the contrary he was aware that is loose curls and sharp jaw were viewed as handsome by many, people just generally didn’t get past his personality once they engaged the pretty face. It was more of a case that it seemed like a lot of effort for absolutely no reason, thrift stores provided comfortable, long wearing clothing for all occasions and though he knew it was much to Hannibal’s chagrin he preferred loose fitting, stretchy and comfortable clothing. He didn’t even have an issue with standing in his boxers in front of female acquaintances, the human body was something you got used to when working in homicide. No, it wasn’t the changing, it was the hungry predatory eyes of Doctor Lecter weighing down on him. His sinewy muscle was nothing compared to the toned bulk of Hannibal’s olive skinned body. Hannibal took great pride in his appearance but for Will it was a good day if he was out of bed before 1pm and could find clean clothes the dogs were not using as a bed. 

Still feeling those dark eyes on him, the little voice in his mind uttered a helpful ‘fuck it’ and Will stood up and pushed his sea salt dried boxers down to his knees and pulled them off.   
He straightened up and turned around to reach for the ridiculously fancy and doubtless terribly expensive boxers and bent down to slip his feet into them.

He heard a small noise in front of him and raised his eyes, instantly regretting it. Lecter had stopped what he was doing and was appraising him with hungry eyes. The look on his face was indescribable. 

Well, at least he likes what he sees, some small part of Will tried to brush the weight of those eyes off in the back of his mind. He purposefully did not look at the waistband of the boxers for fear of seeing the brand there of some ridiculous high end store, leaned down and slipped them on, unable to ignore the sheer comfort the expensive underwear afforded him and the tight stability in front that his dollar store underwear could never help to achieve, and the disconcertingly perfect fit. He chanced a look down and his cheeks reddened even more at the sight of the cushioned material encircling him. He hastily turned round to the bed, earning himself a twinge of intense pain from his shoulder that he swallowed down before it could escape him and amuse Hannibal even more. 

He unbuttoned the jacket and waist coat and slipped them off the ridiculously fancy hanger that Will had never had clothes come on in his life and removed the shirt and then pulled the pressed trousers off and straightened them out. He cautiously slid one leg in and then the other, then pulled them up and buttoned them, zipping up the fly with a slightly unsteady hand as he could still feel the good Doctor's eyes on him. 

"You know this isn't a strip tease right Hannibal?" 

"I am making sure the clothing is correctly fitted." 

"Yuh huh that's exactly what you're doing." 

"Do you have a problem with me appreciating your body William?" 

Will hastily swallowed the breath he was about to take and exceeded in almost choking himself at those words, he wiped his mouth quickly, thankful to see no blood on the back of his hand after and reached for the shirt. 

"You're not usually one for shyness Will." 

"I'm not usually a lot of things until I'm with you Doctor Lecter." Will ground out, trying his damndest to suppress the blush creeping across his face. 

Then Hannibal was next to him and one finger hooked the belt loop of the soft trousers Will was now sporting. Will barely had time to react before Hannibal's other hand tilted his face up so he could look into the older man's eyes. 

"You never have to be shy around me Will. You are perfect to me."

"I am your design." Will managed to breathe as Hannibal's eyes captured his own in their dark mahogany depths. 

Hannibal dipped his head down and pressed his lips to Will's, the fervent lust of the previous kiss forgotten in the softness now presented to him. Will found himself leaning into the kiss and into Hannibal, closing his eyes. The kiss was short and tender, with Hannibal backing away, fingers trailing under Will's chin. 

Will opened his eyes and felt a shiver creeping up him from the feel of Hannibal against him. Nothing had ever felt more right in that moment than Hannibal's solid warmth and steady heartbeat. 

"We dare not tarry any longer Will, much as I would like to be exploring you more, we must leave as soon as is possible." 

Will bit his tongue to help him ignore the visions inspired by Hannibal's words and went to shrug on the shirt, then thought better and slid it over his sore muscles in a way befitting the nature of the clothing, much to the chagrin of his inner voice. 

He buttoned up the shirt and then jumped as hands wound their way around his neck, the red tie came into view along with an audible chuckle from Hannibal. 

"Lost in your own mind again Will?" 

"Lost in yours actually." He muttered to himself, but straightened up as the tie around his neck momentarily tightened. 

"You don't want to go in there I'm afraid, I doubt even you have the stomach for it." 

"Try me." 

"I will, I promise you that." Hannibal finished off the tie and cupped Will's neck in his hand. "But now is neither the time nor place." 

"You keep saying that yet you are still not dressed." 

"If you catch your dressings and begin bleeding there is no sense for me to ruin my clothes also." Hannibal replied easily and Will rolled his eyes as that hand slipped away. 

"I'm sure I can manage to get dressed without supervision." 

"How I wish it were so, but alas, I believe I shall continue to watch in earnest until I know you are ready." 

"And you say I'm ridiculous, you know I actually can't remember one conversation since we met where you haven't flirted with me." 

"Being that you were often so oblivious I felt comfortable in playing a game of risk there. I often was counting how many times I was able to be openly coquettish with you without you noticing." 

"What was your high score?" Will pulled on the waist coat, wincing internally at the tight tailored fit.

"I believe it was 16." 

"See? Ridiculous." Will picked up the cufflinks and attached then onto his sleeves, ignoring the smug smile from Hannibal and slipped the jacket on. 

He glanced down at the pocket square and let out a small laugh. 

"Something is amusing to you Will." 

"The pocket square is amusing to me, I wouldn't even know how to fold one."

"They are the height of elegance and a needed addition to any three piece, now turn around and show me." 

Will felt a rebellious grumble in his throat and turned around slowly, feeling like an absolute idiot, but Hannibal's piercing gaze wiped away his slight annoyance at Hannibal's casual theatricality. Hannibal took him in like a man dying of dehydration consumes a gift of water. Roving eyes took in every detail, from his bare, dirty feet to his bruised throat, now half covered by a cutback collar. He could feel the appreciation and appraisal as he stepped backwards and into the wardrobe. He came back out with a pair of sleek black dress shoes and grey socks and offered them to Will. 

"Size 10." He smiled widely as Will took them from him, mentally noting that Hannibal's smiles always seemed to have a predatory nature, like that of a hunter cornering his prey. Will found that oddly attractive and found himself beginning to blush again, so busied himself with his feet. 

"Is this the only suit you have for me in your wardrobe?" 

Hannibal looked away pointedly, deigning not to answer. 

Will sighed into his lap as he pulled the shoes on. 

"How many?" 

"Here? Three, sadly the ones at my house in Baltimore were lost to the FBI." 

Will choked out an oddly strangled cough and set to his other shoe. 

"It is a shame, this is the least noticeable of the three here, but at my house I had more casual wear for you, I know you prefer comfort over style." 

Will's lips twitched and he shook his head. 

"Ridiculous." He muttered. 

"I'm sorry Will. But if you wish to run with me I simply must insist on a slightly better dress sense, I have to be seen with you remember." 

"You don't have to do anything Hannibal." Will replied curtly, much to Hannibal's amusement. 

"Let me rephrase, I want to, but not dressed as you are, I even have pyjamas and a robe for you." 

Will took in a breath and blew it out, puffing his cheeks, he decided to ignore that last part. “You managed before." 

"I was not in any position to work on that as I would have liked before, I was preoccupied with other things." 

"Yes, undoing my mind must have been quite time consuming." 

"It was actually for the most, seeing that it didn't work out it was quite the wasted effort on my part." 

Will let out a long huff. "You say that but you would have been terribly bored without me around had you driven me clinically insane." 

The corner of Hannibal's mouth curved upwards, creating a charming lopsided smirk. "My intent was never to drive you insane William, only to broaden your mind and show you the power you had hidden within. Sadly a clean cut, innocent mind cannot handle that power. You had to be unhinged to be set free and set back on the path to clear reasoned cold sanity. It was obvious who you truly were from our first meeting, it isn't often I can see someone so clearly." 

Will let out a deep breath and stood up, advancing on the still bare chested Hannibal. "Can you actually speak without being poetic and extravagant?" He raised his hands to settle on Lecter's warm chest. 

"No, I don't think I can. Why? Does it annoy you?" 

"It frustrates me to no end that when I should be annoyed with you I find myself entranced by your ridiculous word play and enchanting voice."

Hannibal raised his chin jauntily, still keeping his eyes on Will. He reached around the smaller man and pulled him into his chest. "You find my voice enchanting?" 

Will dropped his forehead onto Hannibal's chest, feeling the slightly skipping beat that was the only betrayal that Hannibal was as affected by Will's touch as Will was by Hannibal's. He groaned into the soft hair he rested on. "Everyone finds your voice enchanting and you know it." Will ran a hand down Hannibal's ribs, tracing the muscles surrounding them, Hannibal sighed at the touch. 

"I am potentially aware that my voice has a pleasing overtone." 

"Your voice is gorgeous and your accent is sexy and your voice is part of the reason you find it so easy to manipulate people. I often wonder why you didn't become a politician instead of a serial killer." Will managed to get that all out in one breath and then buried himself back into Hannibal’s chest hair. It was comforting there, he was pretty sure he would just stay there now. 

"I fear I would end up killing all of my opposition and therefore outing myself to the public." 

Will chuckled, as did Hannibal and Will leaned in to the thrum of Hannibal's chest against his sore face. 

"So my voice is sexy?" 

"Shut up Hannibal." 

"Don't be rude Will, it is unbecoming." 

"I'm sorry that I'm not as eloquent as you are." 

"On the contrary, I find you are able to convey your meanings very easily, with a blunt crispness that denies any counter. People love your voice Will, it is easy and charming and able to entrance a class just as easily as I could you speak well but you lack the confidence. The difference in the appeal is the softness of your voice and the openness it resonates. When emotions betray you your voice changes dramatically and that frightens people. My voice is always melodic and cool, I dislike raising it unless entirely necessary, and though I make a show of having many good relationships socially, it is with people who admire or are intrigued by me more than people who wish to actually know me. It's quite boring. The accent intrigues, the wordplay ensnares." 

"There you go again, I believe somewhere in that boasting was a compliment." Will lifted his head from Hannibal's chest, still slightly reeling from the touch and closeness he was now inciting. 

"There was, and now I must get dressed because no doubt they have traced your cell phone to here by now." 

"My cell phone is in the back of the truck that was driven off the road." 

"That may give us more time, but I have no doubt something has led them to this location by now. We are wasting precious time that we can catch up with later once we are safe." 

Will sighed and let his hands fall away from Hannibal's body, mourning the loss of contact as he did whilst Hannibal stepped back towards the wardrobe, he moved to the mirror and picked up a washcloth, dabbing at the dried blood around his mouth and collar, once satisfied he turned back to Will. Without preamble he dropped his boxers down and kicked them away, every bit the confident killer. Will drank him in, the toned curve of his ass, the dark hair feathering his groin. Hannibal straightened up and threw a glance at Will that left no room for confusion as to what was on his mind and then he turned around and walked into the wardrobe, leaving Will standing there fighting off arousal at the sight of the man before him. 

Hannibal dressed with practised ease that Will had not managed, easy conversation flitting between the two so Hannibal could listen to the hitch in Will's voice and the slight tremble the sight of his naked body had left Will with. Will didn't care at that moment that Hannibal was enjoying his reaction, he didn't care about anything for a matter of fact. The FBI could have burst right on in there guns blazing and Will would not have been able to rip his gaze away from Hannibal's form...

"William, stop staring I dislike repeating myself." Hannibal straightened up from where he had been clearly showboating whilst bent down over his shoes. "Under the bed is a suitcase packed for you. In the hallway in the second cupboard there is a leather messenger bag. Please retrieve them whilst I go to the safe." 

Will grumbled and turned away, then started forwards as the urgency of the situation slowly bled back into him. Less than one hour had passed yet it felt like Will had been in this room for eternity, tentatively pushing at the newfound intimacy between himself and Hannibal. 

They were on a serious time limit to get away before they were found. The remote location and precautions Hannibal had taken allowed them to gather themselves in abject calm, but that didn't stop the danger from being real. 

Hannibal pulled two coats from the racks in front of him as well as a suitcase, then opened a small chute within the wardrobe. He grabbed the soiled clothes, dressings, candles and anything else that could hint that they had been there and tossed it down the chute to the incinerator, which went off periodically on weekends no matter who was here of if the power was off, then closed the wardrobe, smoothed down the bed and headed to the lounge. Above the fireplace was a painting of a tiger and behind it was a safe. Within that safe were false papers for him, Will and even Abigail. Several of them for different occasions. Legalised passports from different countries, credit cards from various years, some well used to show normalcy. Bank notes from different countries, drivers licenses, id cards, work cards on lanyards, bank account details, insurance numbers, everything you could ever need to disappear, even down to wallet photographs. They were all already placed into a brief case and bag securely. 

Will came in behind him with two bags in his arms. Lecter nodded to him then placed his bags in the foyer and motioned for Will to do the same. He sent Will to the fridge to pick out some drinks for their night-time drive and went outside. He went over to the Dragon's lifeless corpse for one moment, rejoicing in the sheen of blood in the moonlight and the coppery smell pervading the air. He breathed in deep then stepped away. 

He went over to Dolarhyde's car and dropped a strip of ripped material from Will's shirt, a bloodied tissue and one of his eyelashes into the backseat and then took his gloves off and placed his hands over the inside handle of the backdoor. He chewed the inside of his beaten mouth and spat down by the wheel, then with his ruined shoe from earlier that he had saved from the fire he trod the saliva and blood into the dirt. He then walked back to the corpse of The Great Red Dragon (he grinned to himself as the name sounded in his head, looking down at the pitiful excuse for a monster now drying out in the darkness). He walked to the edge of the cliff, careful to step on the stones and not touch any of their older foot prints, then threw the shoe over the edge into the roiling water below. 

He then moved to the second cop car, he himself had stolen, covering the seat with a plastic cover and doing the same for Will's seat. He started it up before backing into the driveway, he saw Will already bringing out bags and popped the trunk of the vehicle. Will thrust the bags in, leaving the damaged front door open and making his way to the passenger side door as Hannibal leaned over and opened it, looking up at Will from under dark eyelashes as he did, Will had the truth reinforced once more, he would follow that man anywhere. 

He was not afraid of him, he was not being lined up as a potential victim, and that moment, as he and Hannibal circled the Dragon like a pair of wolves and slashed at him together had been the most vivid, incredible and exciting moment of Will's life. More exciting than pointing a gun at Hannibal, hurting him, killing Randall Tier with his bare hands, solving the case of the Chesapeake Ripper. Denial was getting him nowhere, he ached for this life, for this partnership, and he would forever agree with Hannibal, that the rude, the violent or the untrustworthy did not deserve to be alive. He was the avenging angel to Hannibal's dark demons. And he had loved every minute of it.


	3. Now We Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This smut fest is beginning to look an awful lot like a plotted story...

They drove in silence for several minutes, the quiet only broken by the cb radio in the dash where Hannibal was listening out for any reports that could pertain to them, tiredness slowly sweeping across Will’s body until he was almost ready to ignore the bloodstained windows and lean into them and sleep. Hannibal mostly kept his eyes on the road but every so often Will could feel those dark eyes flicker to him, as if to make sure he was still truly there, or maybe to make sure he hadn’t passed out from blood loss, there were arguments for both sides.

Will leaned his head back into the plastic covered headrest and exhaled deeply, closing his eyes and mouth and seeing if he was able to breathe through his nose again yet. Several small jolts brought him back to the present and then the soothing sound of the engine was cut off. He felt a warm, gentle pressure on his leg and realised he had fallen asleep even in such an uncomfortable position and opened his eyes, Hannibal’s hand was on his leg, he moved his gaze up to the man’s face and received a soft squeeze.

“We’re here, I hope you are ready...” Hannibal looked away and removed his hand from Will’s leg, then opened the door and stepped out of the car.

Will glanced around, still slightly drowsy and checked the clock on the dash, he’d only been asleep for a few minutes or so, so where had Hannibal brought them?

Will got out of the car, noting the pine needle strewn floor beneath his sore feet and stretched, yawning and feeling his back click, he rubbed his eyes for a moment and then moved around the car to stand beside Hannibal, who had already gotten the bags out of the boot. They were at a chain with a metal ‘private property’ sign in the middle of it. Hannibal unlocked one side and pulled it across then looked back at Will before striding forwards. Will followed gingerly, in the low light of near dawn he had to be careful where he stepped to avoid upsetting his strained body. He followed Hannibal quietly, the shadowed woods setting a mood that didn’t adhere to speaking aloud.

For a few moments all that was heard was the scuttling of disturbed nocturnal animals, once the cry of a vixen rang through the trees and several times Will was sure he saw movement in his peripheral vision. Things like that didn’t really affect Will like it did normal people, he guessed that was a much needed trait to work in homicide, but then he was also adept at waking up in random places in the dead of night so... Even so, he was glad of the quiet strength of Hannibal beside him as he walked the unknown track, careful to stay in the middle due to the ruts caused by many years of use.

After maybe 6 minutes Hannibal stopped and placed his hands on his hips, raising his head and breathing deeply. Will came up beside him and stopped, allowing for his eyes to adjust. There were odd shapes within the trees here and Will nearly untucked his shirt just to rub his eyes with it, but thought better of it when he remembered that the suit he was wearing probably cost more than his car.

Hannibal looked over to him, head raised so he was looking down at Will slightly and Will stepped forwards, the shapes beginning to make sense in the lingering gloom. He took 3 steps and stopped then looked around. Between almost every tree with a gap large enough there sat a car, covered in leaves, debris and bird droppings. As he took it all in he saw plates from all over, and some cars were barely more than rust. They stretched as far as Will could see in front of him and to the right. He swallowed and turned round to Hannibal.

“What is this?”

The look Hannibal gave him clearly said _you already know very well_ but Hannibal gave him the courtesy of an answer. “A grave yard.”

Will stepped forward again and moved to the closest car, an old Chevrolet with a 2004 plate that looked as if it had been dented with a hammer. Will ran his gloved hand over the car and then pulled a tissue out of his pocket he’d stuffed in there before leaving in case his cheek began bleeding again and wiped the mildew off the window. Inside the car the keys still hung in the ignition and on the seat there was a slice across it. A slice that looked on par with a stab wound issued whilst someone is sitting in the drivers seat, god knew he’d seen enough of them in his line of work.

“How many are there?”

“More than you could have imagined.” Came Hannibal’s still confident voice from behind him.

“They all came from...?”

“Yes, each one has its own story to tell, maybe one day, when you’re ready I’ll sit down and tell you them. How do you feel?” Now a slight unease had crept into Hannibal’s voice.

Will wiped the dirt off his glove with the green stained tissue and dropped it beside the car. “A little overwhelmed if I’m honest.”

“Honesty is good. Has this changed your mind at all?”

Will walked back to Hannibal and stood in front of him. “I’m currently rethinking what I believed about you, but I guess that was partly naïvety from my side. This macabre collection isn’t even the tip of the iceberg with you, I know that, I know your kills transcend continents and I’m sure many of these license plates could solve missing persons cases spanning decades. But my decision is unchanged. I’m with you, no matter what.”

The shadows seemed to lift from Hannibal’s face as Will finished speaking, he reached a hand forward, grabbed Will’s perfectly set tie and pulled him roughly into a kiss. Will resisted momentarily out of surprise, and then sank in to Hannibal’s touch, pulling the glove off of one hand he ran it up to Hannibal’s neck and wound it into the soft blonde hair. Hannibal pushed his way into Will’s mouth with his tongue and Will responded in kind, tongues entwining and fighting for dominance. Too soon Hannibal broke away and patted Will’s tie back down into his waistcoat.

“Take the car back and try to park it in a way similar to how it was before, I will meet you back at the house in 10 minutes. Stay in the car, turn the headlights off as you approach and if anything, anything feels wrong drive, drive and keep driving.” He went into his pocket and pulled out an old flip up cell phone. “My number is in here, if you keep driving call me, I will tell you where to meet me.”

“You truly do think of everything.” Will smiled to himself then turned around and made his way back to the ruined cop car.

He glanced back over his shoulder to see Hannibal watching him in the gloom, a sad smile on his face. Will turned back round and kept walking, he hadn’t heard any helicopters yet, so there was hope in his chest, but Jack could well be playing it smart as they would believe Dolarhyde to still be alive.

As Will drove back the dull noise of the radio bore into his throbbing head and he sighed, so far the line was silent about them, but the FBI could be purposefully doing that because they knew the police cars had been stolen, so it was expected for Will. As he came closer to the private road to the house Will turned the lights and radio off and dropped down into first gear, rolling both windows down. He paused in the road and sat there for a moment, listening. He could hear cicadas and the angry sea below, he crept the car forwards until the house was in view then waited, letting several minutes pass before he closed the gap between himself and the empty, blacked out house. He parked as close to how he remembered they had what seemed like a lifetime ago then settled back into his seat.

He found himself quickly agitated watching the numbers change on the orange glow of the dashboard clock and began glancing around. How long had it been now? Was Hannibal close? What if none of the cars would start up? Will closed his eyes and sucked in a breath through his teeth, allowing his anxiety to creep up would do him no good. Hannibal knew what he was doing better than anyone. Hannibal was ready for flight at any moment in his life and perfectly at ease disappearing. Will knew he himself was not but he had to allow himself to trust in Hannibal to take care of it, to take care of him. He knew with unwavering certainty that now the barrier between them had been breached Hannibal would not allow them to be separated again, no matter what. The thought may have been enough to unnerve some people, but to Will, the idea that one of the most dangerous serial killers the 21st century may ever know of would stop at nothing to keep him alive was comforting. Hannibal was not the type of person to fret about Will being in danger, to Hannibal the wounds they currently sported were part and parcel of the lives they chose even if they were at totally opposite ends of the spectrum lifestyle wise, or so they had been until tonight. Will replayed that scene in his head, as he had done many times. They didn’t just kill the Dragon, they had toyed with him, nipping at his heels like a pack of hyenas wearing out a surrounded lion. They could have ended it much quicker, but instead the wore him down, revelling in the helplessness of a man who believed himself so superior. They had worked in perfect harmony to kill Francis Dolarhyde, as if they were made to be together, to hunt together, to kill together. A small voice in the back of his head asked him if he would still view it that way when Hannibal killed someone Will viewed as innocent, like Beverly, but he pushed it away. There would be time for that, there would be time to figure out how much he could take and potentially how much Hannibal could hold back. There was no point running through all of this whilst his mind was so exhausted.

He was startled from his reverie by the almost inaudible sound of tyres over gravel and he spun round to see a silver BMW convertible pull into the driveway very slowly. It drove to the left of Will then reversed and spun round to face the driveway entrance. Hannibal stepped out and looked around, brushing down his suit. He motioned to Will who got out, then leant back in and pulled the covers off the two front seats before he forgot all about them. Hannibal took them then went round to the trunk and stuffed them into one of the pockets inside, then went over and opened the passenger door for Will. This surprised a laugh out of Will, which Hannibal returned with a wry smile. He then slipped round to the driver’s side and slid in and put the handbrake down, with one last backwards glance Will let the safehouse drop out of view as the first tendrils of light pooled on the horizon. Will yawned once more and leaned forwards to turn on the radio. After getting nothing but sketchy tunes he realised just how far away from civilisation they were and gave it up, shutting the radio and settling into the comfy seat, dropping it back slightly so he could attempt to stretch his legs.

“If you need me to driv-“

“Nonsense, you’re exhausted Will and you’ve lost a lot more blood than I have. Get some rest.”

“You got _shot_. " Will added heavy emphasis onto the word. "Where are we going now?”

“I've been shot before. Firstly we need to find a place to sleep, because we cannot keep going like this forever, then we shall move out of the state for a couple of weeks, once this has all died down we shall leave for Europe.”

Will rubbed his head into the seat and groaned. “My poor dogs.”

“There will be plenty of dogs to rescue from the streets where we will go. You will not be without them, your dogs here have a good life with your wife Will, they will be fine.”

Will closed his eyes at the reasonable tone of Hannibal’s voice then scrunched up his nose. “We’ve only kissed twice and you’ve already planned to let me have a dog.”

“Three times, your mind betrays your weakened state. Your dogs changed my mind about the creatures, I was not particularly fond of them before Winston. What can I say, you would not be happy ignoring the suffering of animals and I would not see you unhappy.”

“You’re a great boyfriend you know that right.” Will mumbled drowsily.

“Be quiet Will, you’re exhausted, go to sleep.”

“Spoilsport.” Will muttered into the headrest and Hannibal huffed amusedly in response.

The word boyfriend sat in the back of his mind. He knew Will was teasing him because he was tired, but still, the word seemed so lacking, so incomplete to describe what they had. Soulmates sounded too sentimental but it was close. He had a long drive ahead of him to figure it out, he mused to himself as they drove down the deserted backroads of Baltimore.

*

“Will, wake up.” A hand closed on Will’s shoulder and shook him gently.

Will screwed up his eyes and ran his hands over his face, stifling a yawn as a wave of fresh pain blazed in his face. He slowly opened his eyes and turned to his left, Hannibal had his hand on Will’s shoulder. Will looked at him for a few moments until a smirk began to appear on Hannibal’s face, Hannibal enjoying watching Will try to figure out what was different about him.

“What did you-?” Will blinked away dreariness and Hannibal chuckled.

“Makeup Will, we are going to cross the Canadian Border, do you think they would allow us to cross in the state we are in?”

Will stared at Hannibal for a few seconds then stretched and looked around him, the rugged countryside of Maine was gone, they were now in a woods somewhere Will did not recognise. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Oh, nearly five hours I would say.” Will started and Hannibal placed his hand back on Will’s shoulder. “Relax, I have also been asleep. I pulled up into a private dirt road, I considered a motel, but I’d rather we get as far away from Bar Harbour as is possible, once in Quebec we can find somewhere to rest. Now, I need to clean up your face if that’s alright with you.”

Will just blinked at him, then undid his seatbelt and turned to face Hannibal with a bleary sigh. Hannibal dropped his hand from Will’s shoulder and picked up a small zipped bag up from on the dashboard. For the next twenty minutes Hannibal stared into Will’s face with the keen eyes of an artist. Once he was satisfied Will sat back round and pulled down the sun visor, sliding open the small mirror and checking out his face. He could barely believe it, his ashen, drained face was gone, as was his black eye and various cuts across his face. The only thing that could not be concealed was the stitches, though Hannibal had lessened them greatly to the point that they looked old and healing.

“Wow, I’m impressed, I knew you must have covered up bruises and the like before but, I never guessed you were so skilled.”

Hannibal gave Will a dry smile and leaned onto the back seat and placed the small makeup pouch inside one of the bags and brought out two bottles of still water, he passed one to Will before opening one for himself and taking a long drink. He then got out and stood up, hands pressed into his lower back as he stretched his tall body. Once satisfied all the joints that needed to be cracked had been, he leaned back in, one hand reaching under the seat. To Will’s surprise the seat swung backwards to reveal a small compartment. Hannibal unlocked and opened this with a small key on the car key ring and produced two blue passports. He handed them to Will, then a small paper that listed off the food they had in the car. He then locked the compartment and put the seat back to rights before settling back into the car.

“Today we assume new identities, your new name is Sebastian Alan King, you are an insurance broker from Bangor, but born in Pennsylvania. My name is Henrik Mortensen, I am a small time lawyer from Penobscot but my family are Danish, we are going on a two week holiday to celebrate you closing a big deal with your company, and to whoever notices your stitches, you came off my motorbike at home trying to be clever.” Hannibal’s smile reached his eyes then and Will couldn’t help but smile back. “We plan to start at Quebec City, then drive down to Duplessis, then go into Montreal, to do sightseeing.”

Will opened the passport and squinted at the photo of himself there. “Sebastian Alan King, 38 years old, birthday 26th June.” Will nodded agreeably and then opened the other passport. “Henrik Mortensen, 47 years old, birthday 29th October. How do you do this?” Will glanced over at Hannibal, one eyebrow raised.

“It’s impressive how far the high class will go to disappear, if you want to find the right people you don’t always have to look for the seediest downtown bars. Baltimore is full of people ready to help out for the right price.”

“Ridiculous.” Will muttered and handed the passports to Hannibal, who put them in the slot above the radio.

“I have under my seat insurance details, papers for many occasions, social security cards, chequebooks and much more. Oh, could you pass me that messenger bag please?”

Will reached around behind him, ignoring the stiffness of his aching shoulder, and pulled the messenger bag into his lap. Hannibal opened it up and dove a hand in, bringing out two leather wallets. One was simplistic and traditional, the other a Levi’s. He handed Will the Levi’s wallet. Will opened it up and looked inside. Several notes, loose change in a zip pouch, two crumpled receipts, one from a gas station in Bangor. A driver’s license matching his passport, a debit and two credit cards (American Express and Visa), a health insurance card and a business card for his insurance company. Will huffed a laugh to himself and then wiggled the wallet into his trouser pockets, the man truly did think of everything.

Once they had sorted everything out Hannibal turned on the engine and turned the car around in the deserted clearing, then drove out and back onto the road. They were less than 5 miles from the border and slowly the traffic converged into 2 lines. They sat and waited, Hannibal easy and comfortable, one arm out the window, one on the wheel whilst Will sat and agonised over the impending disappearance from America.

Even in Florence when Will couldn't be sure that he would leave the city alive he hadn't felt this much stormy emotion roiling in the pit of his stomach. Some small part of him was still waving around a sign saying 'this is crazy you need to think about this'. But Will didn't want to think about this, not now, not yet, not until he'd slept in a proper bed and perhaps gotten some heavier medication into his system. He tried to push such thoughts from his mind, he'd be no good crossing the border sweating and twitchy.

 _Ridiculous_ , he thought to himself, that he could walk into a room and see a corpse and focus on the killer of it calmly and easily, yet the idea of crossing the border with Hannibal was giving him the nerves. As if he had heard his name in Will's mind he felt Hannibal's eyes upon him.

"Are you having second thoughts? Now that you've had some rest and cleared your mind." His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed his own nervousness when Will met his gaze.

"No." Will began, then took a moment to consider how to continue. "I'm nervous, actually," he tried to laugh off his words, but it only managed to make him sound more nervous, "nervous about going through the border, about leaving America and my life behind. My life should have been one big ball of anxiety but I was able to spend most of my time with a calm and serene mind, detaching myself from all but the most base emotions, until now."

Hannibal reached his hand out and Will took it, taking comfort in the warmth of Hannibal's skin upon his. "This is because you've finally allowed yourself to let emotion in Will, it will make you feel unsteady and bring disquiet upon your mind."

"As if I haven't had enough of that already." Will barked a short laugh, dropping his head back into the seat before looking back at Hannibal.

"This is different, I believe this is what it is like to fall in love." Hannibal kept his gaze steady, but squeezed Will's hand, Will returned the pressure.

"Believe? You mean you've never...?" Will left the question hanging in the morning gloom.

"No, I thought I was in love once, long ago, when I met Chiyoh. Not, with Chiyoh." Hannibal silenced the question forming in Will's mind. "She was hand maiden to a woman who took me in, she taught me much of what I now know of life. The woman taught me so much and I was just beginning to bloom into the man I am today, I was young and headstrong. She helped me to become the murderer you now know. Because of that I thought I loved her, but when I proclaimed this to her she all but fled, leaving myself and Chiyoh to continue on my quest for blood. I was heartbroken, for a time but as I grew I was able to see it for what it was, a teenager's lust, that 'first' love every man or woman has at that tender age."

Will squeezed Hannibal's hand this time, a silent thank you to him for revealing something of his past without precedence.

"Have you ever been in love Will?" Hannibal's gaze turned from cool to calculating.

"I'm in love with Molly, I think at least, but I think it was because it was easy. I didn't have to do anything more than be with her. It wasn't like this, nothing has ever been like this."

"Of that I can agree."

"As you know, I struggle greatly with connecting with people, I never had that first big love, I kept away from people unless I had to. There was lust, and wanting, I wanted Alana but I didn't love her, I wanted to love her, I tried but she always just stayed out of reach of anything more than fantasy. Well, for me anyway."

Hannibal all but rolled his eyes at that last part. "Don't get jealous now William." He retorted. "Alana was a means to an end."

"You mean a way to control me."

"In part, yes but also a way to keep her blinded. All the time she was sleeping with me she would never suspect me."

"So that's where I went wrong, instead of trusting her I should have seduced her."

"You would have failed." Hannibal smirked devilishly at him.

"Sad but true, but that's okay, I seem to have managed okay with seducing you."

"Yes," Hannibal leaned closer to him, "perhaps it says something about you that you are able to seduce a man much easier than a woman, women have seduced you time and time again, Alana, Margot, Molly, but you have never seduced, until me."

Will leaned in to the closeness. "Perhaps it does, perhaps I'm in the closet."

That surprised a laugh out of Hannibal and Will seized the distraction to grab the back of the older man's head and bring their lips together. Hannibal, still caught off guard, having planned to do the exact same thing to the younger man when Will was distracted, moaned into Will's mouth. This had the exactly right effect on Will, he could feel heat pooling between his legs as their mouths fought for dominance, but this only caused the lust to rise in him and he pushed his tongue into Hannibal's mouth, tasting Hannibal's breath mingling with his own. Having been sleeping and driving all night it shouldn't have been such a pleasant experience, but it was somehow.

He dropped Hannibal's hand with his own and slid it up onto Hannibal's waist, where he quickly untucked the perfect shirt and ran a hand up Hannibal's bare skin. Hannibal gasped into Will and the hand that had just been dropped grasped at Will's belt. Hannibal felt Will's breath hitch at the touch and then they both sprang apart as a horn blared behind them. Panting hard, Will looked down at Hannibal's hand that had begun to undo his belt, then back to the man, his cheek's flushed, lips swollen, eyes heavy. Then the horn blared again and they looked behind them, then out the windscreen realising the line of cars had began to move. They both laughed, Will bringing a hand up to his face to cradle his sore cheek as Hannibal chuckled, retucking his shirt and putting the car into gear, he then put his foot on the accelerator, bringing them ever closer to the border.

*

Crossing the border was easy, too easy, easier than Will could have ever imagined. Hannibal gave the man a winning smile and squeezed Will's knee in their view, telling them proudly about the merger Will had just completed. Will almost wanted to believe Hannibal himself. He watched the man in the booth grow ever more uncomfortable at the blatant display of homosexuality next to him as the man almost dropped the passports back through the window and barely glanced at the list of food Hannibal gave to declare. He waved them through and wished them happy sightseeing, Hannibal thanked him graciously, giving Will's leg another loving squeeze to complete the scene before rolling up his window and driving through.

Will sat back in the seat and laughed until he had to take a deep breath. Hannibal joined his laughter quietly, removing his hand from Will's leg long enough to move it up into second gear, then replacing it, this time in a much more tender way. Will covered the hand in his own as he watched the signs drift out of view behind them.

"You got us into Quebec by acting camp."

"Nonsense, our papers got us into Quebec, the play acting just kept him from asking us lots of questions and taking up too much of our precious time with the securities attention to detail."

Will raised an eyebrow at him but continued to laugh gently, but still managed to cause himself a slight coughing fit. Before he could rummage about for his water Hannibal had thrust his own under Will's nose. Will took it gratefully and took a deep drink before returning it. The silence between them acknowledging that Hannibal just committed a social faux pas and terribly sweet thing.

 _Fucking serial killers and their weird ways_. Will mused to himself as he settled back into his seat, the adrenaline rush from the border seeping out of his limbs, leaving them heavy, his mind fogging up. He fought off the tiredness, trying to continue conversation with Hannibal, but instead Hannibal turned the radio on and tuned it to a Canadian station and shushed Will, telling him to go to sleep. Will tried and failed to glare at Hannibal and instead gave up, letting exhaustion wash over him once more.


End file.
